History Repeats Itself
by igobumpinthedark
Summary: This takes place DIRECTLY after 5/6/2010's episode Isobel. Cannon.
1. Chapter 1

Damon glanced up when Elena walked into the library. He paused, a glass of amber fluid suspended halfway to his lips, and studied her briefly before averting his eyes and throwing back the contents of his glass.

"I need to know some things, Damon." Elena said evenly, advancing farther into the room towards him.

He sighed. "Of course you do, Elena, you never could let sleeping dogs lie." He murmured as he poured himself another drink.

Elena smiled fleetingly before going on. "What my mot...what Isobel said, Damon, is it true?"

Damon stiffened, took a slow sip of his drink, and turned to face her.

"That depends on your definition of true," he hedged, narrowing his eyes.

"Damon," Elena said quietly.

"Elena," he mocked, widening his eyes slightly.

"Are you in love with me?" she whispered.

"Do you think that I am capable of love?" he countered.

"Of course you are," she answered without hesitation, taking a small step towards him. "You loved Katherine."

"I was human then," he pointed out, taking a long draw from the glass in his elegant hands.

"You carried that love with you all these years,"

Damon sighed and set his glass down, turning quickly to gaze at her openly. "I carried that obsession with me all these years." He corrected her curtly. "There is a difference; perhaps you should learn it."

Elena took another small step towards him. "Damon,"

Damon took a step back. "Don't,"

Elena covered the distance between them quickly, coming to stare up into his face. "Are you in love with me, Damon; I need to know."

"Why?" he asked quietly. "Why do you need to know, Elena, why can't you just let it go?"

"You do," Elena said in wonder, reaching up to touch his cheek gently. "You do love me."

Damon clenched his jaw. "Does it matter?" he asked stiffly. "Does it change things?"

Elena frowned and drew her fingers across his taunt jaw. "I've upset you," she murmured worriedly.

Damon caught her hand and pressed a fleeting kiss to the underside of her wrist before turning his smoldering gaze back to hers. "Does it change things?" he repeated fervently.

Elena let out the breath she was holding. "I love Stefan," she said slowly. "And I love you, Damon, but I am in love with Stefan."

He pressed a damp kiss to her palm. "Are you sure?" he asked in a soft tone.

Elena shivered with pleasure. "Yes...yes, I'm sure."

He smiled ruefully, releasing her wrist and pushing her away from himself gently so he could move across the room.

"Damon," Elena said, reaching her arm out toward the space he'd just occupied.

He regarded her from a safe distance across the room. "Don't," he said quietly. "Just go now. Please,"

Her face broke, tears gathering in her dark eyes before spilling over and trickling down her cheeks. She stood there, staring at him, crying quietly.

Damon groaned. "Don't," he pleaded from a distance. "Don't cry, Elena."

"I...I...I never meant to hurt y...you, Damon." She sobbed.

With a heaving sigh, Damon moved back towards her and gathered the sobbing girl into his arms. "I'm fine, Elena." He muttered.

"I don't want to hurt you," she cried into his chest, clinging desperately to him. "May...maybe I could l...love you...if you can give m...me some time,"

"Elena, stop, for the love of God." Damon said in exasperation. He held her at arms length. "I don't want your pity," he said fiercely. "And where is Stefan? Does he know you're having this conversation with me? Do you want to hurt him?"

Elena stared up at him silently with glassy eyes.

He shook her once, softly. "Do you?"

Elena sniffled. "No." she whispered.

"Then stop," Damon ordered firmly, releasing Elena and stepping back. "I won't accept your pity. If one day you do love me, Elena, it will be because I've earned it - not because you feel sorry for me." he said roughly.

Elena stared at him silently, wiping at her tears.

"Now," Damon went on, returning to his usual purr and moving to make another drink. "Run along to your _boyfriend_," he spit the word like a curse. "Before he starts to wonder where you've wandered off to."

Elena bit her lip but began to back off as she was told. "I am sorry,

Damon," she whispered. "For what it's worth," she added before whirling and running from the room.

He smiled into the fire crackling in the grate. "Oh Elena," he sighed to the cavernous room as he sipped at his drink. "It's worth more than you'll ever know."

Damon left the house shortly after, the screeching of his tires down the gravel of the driveway twisted the knife a little deeper into Elena's heart.

She was sitting in the window seat of Stefan's room, her journal laying open against her drawn up knees and her pen poised in mid air, as she watched Damon tear from the house like a bat out of hell. Stefan sat across the room from her, at his desk, pretending to read an ancient looking book. Elena knew he was pretending, that he was trying to give her the space that she so desperately needed right now. But she also knew that her silence - and her weeping - was hurting him. Stefan was not a stupid man, he knew exactly what was going on with her and in all probability had heard, word for word, her conversation with

his brother.

But Elena couldn't think about that now. She would deal with it later, she knew, and spill plenty of tears for the man she was hurting in this room now. But tonight, tonight was reserved to sort out her feelings for Damon. To ponder the pain she caused him by her very presence. To find an answer, the most happy medium, the greatest, least painful compromise there was. If there was one.

And so, as she sat staring after the long vanished taillights of Damon's ostentatious sports car, Elena thought. She considered just how Damon had fallen in love with her and why. She'd certainly been cold to him more often than not in the past. She wondered if it was her uncanny resemblance to Katherine that drove his devotion towards her. If Damon was still obsessed with finding Katherine, perhaps he only considered her a suitable stand in until the real, and perhaps better, Katherine could be found. If she were to reenter the picture, would Damon cast her, Elena, aside without a second thought? Maybe. But Elena didn't think so. She was fairly certain that Damon had given up on Katherine; that he had fell out from under her spell. So, Damon was in love with her. Damon Salvatore, the once cruel vampire, hell bent on revenge, had softened around the edges to her and fallen in love. It was not something she could take lightly, no, Damon did not trust easily and to love is to trust. How, with a good conscience, could she take that trust and throw it away? He'd been through so much; he was so damaged, if she continued to reject him, what would be his final breaking point? And who would suffer when he finally snapped?

And yet there was another question that remained; one that she'd been avoiding for some time now, and one that would be ignored no longer: did she have feelings for Damon? She'd come to love him, of course, just as she still loved Matt. And, if she was being completely honest with herself, there was an undeniable physical attraction she felt towards him. The man was gorgeous and that was that. But was it enough? Certainly not. Not when Elena knew the depth of true love. The kind of love she shared with Stefan. She could never share that with Damon. Could she?

Was one heart capable of feeling that much love for two different people? Could one person have two soul mates? Maybe, but wouldn't that much love tear her in two?

She imagined this is what it must have been like for Katherine. To love both Salvatore brothers; a gift and curse in one. So much love to give, but it was that love, that undying passion,that became the undoing of Damon and Stefan. She could not, would not, repeat that mistake.

So what was the solution? She could never have one without causing the other agony. Elena knew the answer, it was etched on her heart, and had been for sometime now. She'd known, on a subconscious level, that Damon had loved her. Of course she knew. And with brutal honesty, she had to admit that she'd loved him for some time too. She could not have one without the other, nor could she have both. Elena could have neither. The pain, pure and physical, of that realization took her breath away. She could have neither Salvatore. Her heart was bleeding, but she knew that it was for the best. She loved Stefan more than she could put into words, more than she understood, but she could not deny Damon. She could not deny, any longer, that she felt the stirrings of love for Damon. And she could not continue to hurt Damon with her dedication to Stefan. She would have to leave. Tonight.

Elena looked up at Stefan and forced herself to smile. His answering smile was more of a grimace.

"Alright, my love?" he asked quietly.

Elena brushed away the last remaining tears on her face and nodded. "I am. Are you?"

Stefan set aside his book and opened his arms to her. "I don't like to see you sad, Elena." He murmured as she settled into his lap.

"I don't like to be sad," she teased, reaching up and brushing a lock of his hair back from his face.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, pressing a warm kiss to her shoulder.

"No," Elena said. "Not yet," she amended so as not to hurt his pride.

He nodded mutely, kissing her shoulder again. Elena sighed at the contact. She would definitely miss that. Stefan trailed his lips across her shoulder and up the slender column of her throat and Elena closed her eyes and dropped her head back with a little gasp. She turned her head so that his lips were pressed against hers. One more night, she reasoned, one last night, she corrected, wouldn't hurt. She kissed him with ferocious abandon.

Stefan caught up to her mood in an instant, rising and carrying her to his bed lithely. He placed her down gently in the center of his soft sheets and with an urgent desperation from Elena, that he didn't quite understand, they came together as one.

Elena slipped out of bed while Stefan slept. He was a heavy sleeper the times that he actually slept, and he didn't even stir. She crept downstairs to shower in a guest bathroom, keeping it short even though her taunt muscles were sorely in need of a long hot soak. She dressed quickly and crept into the library where she sat and wrote out two letters as quickly as she could through the pain of her breaking heart. She left one, addressed to Stefan, on the desk and took the other with her and she crept silently out of the house.

She cringed when she started her little car, thinking it sounded like an explosion in the quiet of the night. She waited for a moment, staring up toward Stefan's window, holding her breath, but no light flicked on and she eased her car slowly out of the winding drive. Elena grabbed her cell phone, it was only ten o'clock, and flipping it open, she called Damon.

Damon wasn't sure where he was going as long as it was away. Away from this damned town, away from that damned house, away from his damned brother, and away from Elena. He had some wounds to lick, and he had to get as far away from her as he could to do that. And speaking of wounds to lick, he was thirsty. But, then again, he was always thirsty.

Pushing his foreign car to its limit, Damon hightailed it out of Mystic Falls and thirty-five minutes west into the small town of Russen. It was a small town, yes, but it had a fabulous little dive bar he frequented and more than its share of willing women. Yes, Russen would serve his intentions just fine. He'd be stinking drunk and into some eager women's bed, and veins, by midnight. He was making excellent time.

As he roared into town he allowed his mind to wander over the nights events. Damn Isobel for outing him like that with no warning him. The bitch had taken a shot in the dark and hit the nail on the head. Of course he loved Elena, how could he not?

Elena was perfect; soft and innocent, but strong and mischievous. She was everything he'd loved about Katherine and everything Katherine was not and that he hadn't known enough to desire. It seemed to him that Elena had been crafted for him, forged out of the most perfect elements, and made as his other half; his better half. She was silk and steel, everything that got his blood boiling and heart melting.

Oh course, fate gave her to his little brother. That was always the case. First Katherine and now Elena. Stefan always won. If only he'd come back to Mystic Falls first, he'd have had her. His Elena; his love.

Just as Damon was whipping his car into a parking spot his phone went off. Giving it a cursory glance as he shut off the engine, his breath came out in a huff. Elena. He considered, fleetingly, ignoring it. But knowing his luck, Stefan and Elena had managed to land themselves in some sort of epic vampire war in the forty minutes he'd been gone.

He snapped it open viciously. "What, Elena?"

_"Damon,"_ her voice came across small and sad. _"Where are you? I have to see you. Now."_

Damon ground his teeth together in frustration. "I'm a little tied up at the moment, Elena. Or," he paused then went on with an edge to his voice. "I'm hoping to be soon if I can find a willing woman in this place. What do you want?"

_"You."_

Damon was busy scanning the group that was milling around the door of the bar smoking for a potential woman. Or women. Whatever the night brought. "Sorry," he said distractedly. "I didn't catch that,"

_"I want you, Damon. Can you please come over? Just come in through my bedroom window."_

That got his attention. "Excuse me?"

_"Please, Damon. I need to see you tonight. Right now. Please,"_ her voice crackled pleadingly across the line.

Damon groaned. "Damnit, Elena," He shouldn't. He really, honestly, truly shouldn't. He was in no shape after this evening's events. He should just find himself a nice wonton woman in this bar, bed her down and drink her blood. But this was Elena.

_"Please,"_

"Fine," he snarled into the receiver. "I'm on my way,"

Damon threw his phone down violently, turned the key in the ignition, and peeled out of the parking lot, back the way he'd come.

Elena had dozed off, propped up against her headboard, still clothed down to her shoes, Damon saw as he climbed gracefully through her window just twenty minutes later. He'd come close to breaking the sound barrier he guessed. He stood for a moment in the soft glow of her desk lamp, watching her sleep. She was beautiful in repose, he observed, her face flushed with dreams, the steady and even rise and fall of her chest, the soft sound of her breathing. An angel. He moved silently to her bed and bent low across her, breathing in deeply her soft sent and pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. Then he retreated a few steps and cleared his throat loudly.

She came awake with a little gasp, her chocolate eyes struggling to focus on her surroundings. When she realized what had woken her she smiled sleepily and rubbed her eyes.

"Sorry. I fell asleep." She murmured, sitting up and sliding to edge of her bed.

"I gathered," he quipped, his previous irritations of the night forgotten.

Elena smiled and patted the mattress beside her. Damon hesitated briefly before crossing the room to sit beside her. She immediately dropped her head onto his shoulder and, against his better judgment, his arm looped gently around her slim waist.

"Mmm," she sighed, scooting closer. He remained silent, waiting for her to reveal the reason his presence was so necessary.

"I love you, Damon." She whispered.

He stopped breathing and held himself completely still.

"Does it make it easier or harder knowing that?" she asked, pulling back enough to look into his eyes.

He considered the question seriously. "That depends," he qualified. Elena cocked her head to the side and he continued. "It depends on what sort of love you're referring to and what you're going to do about that love."

Elena smiled very softly before pressing her lips against his. Damon shuddered and tilted his head to add pressure to her tentative kiss. She pulled back and gave him a wry smile. "I'm in love with you," she clarified.

"I see," he said quietly, quelling the urge to jump up in elation. "And I, you. But you knew that."

She gave a nod. "I did."

He reached out to stroke her face and she leaned into his hand. "And now what do we do?" he asked, cupping her face in his palm gently.

She smiled, turned her head, and bit his wrist playfully. Damon raised an eyebrow with a smirk. "I have a few ideas," she said wickedly. "But first, I want you to drink my blood."

Damon moaned softly. "Elena," he breathed. "Wait." She ignored him, nipping her way up his arm. "What about my brother,"

She glanced up at him, pausing in her nips. "I left him a letter," she whispered.

She didn't feel the need to tell him that he would be receiving a similar letter before the sun rose. Damon studied her face for a moment, then tucked a finger beneath her chin and tugged her gently up so that he could kiss her again.

It was instantaneous; their passion exploded and Elena thought she'd caught fire. His lips, his tongue, his hands, they were everywhere at once. She was briefly startled to see that's she'd climbed up into his lap, her legs on either side of his, with the mattress beneath her knees. His hands were twined in her hair at the moment, his lips working hungrily at her own, when she cupped his face and pushed it away from hers. She tilted her head to the side and looked into his eyes.

"Drink," she commanded.

Damon didn't hesitate to follow her directive. Elena saw his eyes change, the veins becoming pronounced, and felt his razor sharp teeth cut into her neck. There was a brief flash of exquisite pain followed by a pleasure so astoundingly acute Elena had to slap a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming out. She clutched at the hair at the back of Damon's skull as she writhed under his expert touch. Stefan had drunk from her for survival; Damon was doing it for pleasure.

He pulled back, moments later, his eyes heavily lidded with satisfaction and Elena fumbled behind her to grab a bottle of water from her nightstand to thrust at Damon. He understood, of course, and took a deep swallow, swishing it around his mouth to rinse it clean before swallowing. As soon as he'd finished, Elena was kissing him frantically again. She sat back, panting, and tugging at her clothes. Within minutes, Damon had them divested and they came together is such an astounding passionate tangle that Elena was surprised they didn't wake the entire neighborhood, let alone her household.

They lay tangled in the bed sheets, intertwined with each other, both panting when it was over. Elena knew that Damon didn't sleep and she regretted what she would have to do to him to get away. As they breathing and heart rates slowed towards normal, Damon held her cradled against his chest. When she sensed that it was getting too late, Elena slithered her body overtop his, straddling his waist and not bothering to conceal her nudity. He tucked his arms behind his head and smirked.

"Got something in mind, Elena?" he teased.

She bit her lip and nodded. "Damon," she breathed leaning down to press a string of kisses across his chest. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?"

"Vaguely," he chuckled, squirming under her lips. "But you could always show me again."

Elena stretched, like a cat, her hands sliding over his shoulders and smoothly up the mattress, underneath the pillow while her back arched low over him.

He growled and ran his hands over the smooth expanse of her back.

"I love you Damon," she whispered as her fingers curled around the small syringe she'd hidden under her pillow. "So, so, so much. And I never want to hurt you ever again."

He smiled bemusedly. "I love you too, Elena."

"I'm so sorry," she whispered brokenly before plunging the needle into his neck and depressing the vervain into his system.

His eyes opened wide in shock and his body arched violently upwards, sending her tumbling to the mattress beside him. She scrambled back up to cup his face between her hands.

"It's just a little vervain, Damon, I promise." She sobbed. "I have to leave tonight, and you can't follow me. I didn't know how else to keep you here. I can't hurt you or Stefan anymore. Please understand. I love you both, and I shouldn't; I can't, so I'm leaving. I'll never, ever bother you or your brother again. I'm so sorry, Damon." She wept, caressing the puncture site on his neck. "I really am in love with you," she whispered in his ear before slithering off the bed, yanking her clothes on, grabbing her suitcase from under the bed, and dropping his letter on the pillow beside his writhing form. She swiped at the tears running down her face.

"I'm so sorry," she breathed, brushing her lips against his. "I love you. The vervain should wear off in a few hours. I'm sorry," she repeated one last time before dashing from the room and closing the door softly behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

The search for Elena lasted exactly three and a half weeks. That's when the police, from four states away, found her body in a swampy field outside of a small town. Her body was brought back to Mystic Falls where it was given a thorough autopsy and it was declared that Elena had died from drowning in the murky waters of the swamp.

The entire town, including the Salvatore's, turned out for her funeral. Jeremy was beside himself and Alaric had to carry Jenna out at the end. Stefan and Damon sat side by side in the pew, staring straight ahead, their shell-shocked faces speaking volumes of their inexplicable grief. Bonnie sat stock still, the tears coursing down her face falling to soak her lap. Caroline held on to Matt while he wept, her own tears falling thickly.

The town was in mourning.

When Damon and Stefan returned home that evening, it was Stefan who slid the ring from his finger. Damon followed suit without a word. No words were needed; neither of them could exist in a world where Elena did not. They sat quietly, staring into the dying embers of the fireplace, waiting for the sun to rise.

"You weren't always so dramatic," came a voice behind them.

Both brothers turned around to see Elena standing there with a haughtily raised eyebrow.

"Elena," Stefan breathed, half rising.

"Not quite," the woman said and Damon clamped a hand over Stefan's arm.

"Katherine," Damon spat. "How lovely of you to stop by."

She smirked and stepped down into the library. Damon deftly grabbed their rings and both he and Stefan jammed them back onto their fingers before sinking into a defensive crouch as Katherine came closer.

"Oh, get over it," Katherine laughed, advancing. "You two are so much more useful to me alive than dead."

"How can we help you today?" Damon bit out sarcastically.

Katherine smiled and waved her hand in the air dismissively. "Details," she purred. "I think you'll be more interested in what I have of yours." Katherine snapped two elegant fingers together and two vampires appeared in the doorway, supporting a bound and gagged carbon copy of Katherine. _Elena_.

A deafening snarl tore from Damon's lips as a vicious growl echoed in Stefan's chest. They leaned forward menacingly toward Katherine, who laughed lightly in response.

"You won't hurt me," she trilled. "I have the most precious thing you desire."

"What," Damon whispered dangerously, a restraining hand of his brother's arm. "Do you want?"

Katherine smiled. " I want," she began slowly. "Emily's spell book."

"We don't have it," Stefan spat.

"No," she conceded. "But you do know the filthy witch that does. I want you to get it for me."

"I can try," Damon allowed darkly. "But I can't promise the girl will give it to me."

"You'll get it," Katherine said easily, moving to Elena's side and caressing her unconscious face. "Or I'll kill your girlfriend," she added, trailing her nail across Elena's exposed throat and leaving a trail of blood in his wake. She leaned in to lap it up.

Damon roared, Stefan pulled violently against his brother's restraint, and Katherine laughed. "Get me the book, boys, and I'll give you back your little substitute for me. We'll be back in two days." With another snap of her long fingers, Katherine and the two vampires holding Elena disappeared.

"Are you insane?" snapped Bonnie. "First of all, you don't know if I actually _have_ the book and second, if I did – why would I give it to you?"

"I told you," Damon snarled, his patience dangerously close to running out. "To save Elena."

"Elena is dead, Damon." Bonnie said flatly.

"She is not, Witch, but she will be soon, if you don't give me the god damned book!" he roared.

Stephen laid a hand against his brother's arm. "Peace," he murmured quietly before turning to address Bonnie. "Elena is not dead, I have seen her with my own eyes. You have my word that she lives."

Bonnie looked hugely skeptical. "If that's true Stephen," she said slowly. "And this Katherine demands Emily's spell book, do you have any idea how dangerous a book like that would be in her hands?"

"I do," Stephen said solemnly. "But when it comes to Elena's life, I simply don't care."

Bonnie stood up and paced the length of her porch. She would never invite the Salvatores into her home, and so the three of them lingered on the porch in the chilled evening air. "I went to her funeral." Bonnie said quietly. "I saw her in the casket; I put flowers on her grave. Elena was dead."

Damon made an exasperated noise. "Katherine!" he yelled, receiving (and ignoring) a dark look from his brother. "She looks exactly like Elena. _She_ lied in the casket. _She_ was buried. And _she _dug herself out."

Bonnie gazed narrowly at Damon. "I loved Elena," she said quietly. "But this book, it can't fall into the wrong hands."

"Are you saying you'd rather see Elena truly dead than hand over a spell book?" Damon asked, looking incredulous.

"I'm saying," Bonnie spat. "That as much as I love her, one life is not worth the number Katherine can take once she has the book. And Elena would agree with me!"

"I'll kill you, Witch!" Damon snarled, moving to stand over Bonnie menacingly.

She raised an eyebrow and Damon fell to his knees, screaming in agony and gripping his head. "You will, will you?" she asked darkly.

"Stop," Stephen said wearily and Bonnie grudgingly obliged.

Damon looked murderous as he rose to his feet and glared at Bonnie with open hostility. She returned his gaze with equal malice.

Stephen sighed and rubbed his temples. "Perhaps there is some middle ground we can find; some plan we can come up with that will allow us to save Elena and ruin Katherine at the same time."

"Forget your plans, brother!" Damon cried. "I don't give a damn what she does with the book as long as Elena's safe."

"No one is safe if she's in possession of the book!" Bonnie raged.

"I don't care," Damon said darkly, slowly, enunciating each syllable.

Bonnie threw up her hands and continued pacing.

The atmosphere on the porch was tense; the barely contained violence was palpable.

"Could we present her with a copy?" Stephen asked. "An altered edition with spells that do not work as they should,"

Bonnie paused. "Do you think she wouldn't know the difference?" she asked.

"Perhaps," Stephen allowed. "But I think it's our only chance."

Bonnie nodded, considering.

Damon exploded. "I will not take these kinds of chances with Elena's life!" he raged. "We will give her the god damn book if I have to slaughter a thousand people to get to it!"

"Damon," Stephen admonished gently.

"No!" he bit back. "This is the woman you love!" he yelled. "Do something about it. And you," he snarled, turning on Bonnie. "Elena is your best friend! You dare to take her life into your hands?"

"I have responsibilities!" she cried.

"Damn your responsibilities! The book, Witch, or I will go through you to get it!" Damon demanded.

"I'll kill you first," she hissed.

"You can try," Damon taunted.

They stood toe to toe, snarling into each other's faces.

"ENOUGH!" Stephen bellowed. "Elena is going to die if we can't find a solution to this problem, and the two of you bickering is not going to help."

"Send him away," Bonnie muttered. "And I will work with you, Stephen."

"Go," Stephen said firmly.

Damon narrowed his eyes and glared at Bonnie. "Two hours," he spoke softly. "You have two hours to figure something out and then I will be back. If you do not have a solution by then…" he trailed off with a shrug.

Bonnie's lip curled in disgust. "I'm a lot stronger than I look, Damon, it would be an interesting fight."

Damon smiled coldly. "You'll sleep sometime, Witch." He murmured as he stalked off into the night.


End file.
